


Just Because I Love You Doesn’t Mean I Don’t Hate You Too

by carnationsandrobots



Category: The Emperor's Edge Series - Lindsay Buroker
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Femslash February
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 10:46:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/686062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carnationsandrobots/pseuds/carnationsandrobots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While there are a lot of things Evrial Yara hates about Amaranthe, without question the thing she hates most is her friend’s callous willingness to throw her life away.</p><p>AU, in which Yara and Amaranthe have been friends since the enforcer academy, Yara’s been with the team since Book 1, and they’re both gay, gay, gay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Because I Love You Doesn’t Mean I Don’t Hate You Too

**Author's Note:**

> Content advisory for ableism, kissing, references to torture, body horror, and swearing.

Amaranthe manages to convince Sespian to go up to the Marblecrest mansion and find a room to spend the night in. She points Sespian down the path to the house before making her way back to the beach to tell everyone that the current plan is to spend the night here before they start traveling up the river. She wishes they could start making their way back up to Stumps tonight, but her aching body and the general battered state of the rest of the team speaks to everyone’s need for a good night’s sleep.

To her surprise, Evrial’s the only one remaining on the beach when she gets back to the spot where she left everyone.  

“Hey,” Amaranthe says, sitting down next Evrial and giving her a nudge with her shoulder, “Where’d everyone else go?”

“Up to the house,” Evrial replies, but she doesn’t look at Amaranthe, instead keeping her eyes fixed on the waves lapping the beach.

Amaranthe crinkles her brow at her girlfriend’s standoffishness before saying, “Oh. Well, good. That’s what I was going to tell everyone to do. Ancestors know we could all use a good night’s rest.”

Evrial doesn’t respond.

“Well,” Amaranthe hedges, making to stand up, “I guess we can go up and –“

“Were you ever even going to tell me?” Evrial bites out.

Amaranthe drops back down onto the sand. Understanding what’s going on, she closes her eyes briefly, not feeling up to the conversation. But the truth of the matter is that Evrial deserves some sort of an explanation, and if it doesn’t happen now, it’s going to happen later. “This is about –“

“The fact that we’ve spent the entirety of the last year helping to prop up an illegitimate heir? The fact that we’ve risked our lives for someone who doesn’t even belong on the throne?” She turns her gaze from the waves, meeting Amaranthe’s eyes for the first time with a look of hurt and confusion, “How long did you know, Amaranthe?”

Amaranthe sighs. This conversation is not going to go well. “Since last winter, when we had to rescue Sespian from Larocka at the smelter.”

Evrial’s eyes widened. “What… you’ve known this for almost an entire year? And, in all that time, you never saw fit to share that secret with me? How did you even find out in the first place?”

“I… guessed. And Sicarius confirmed. And, Evvy,” Amaranthe twists in the sand to better face Evrial, “It was so much more complicated than finding a private place to tell you, this… it was a dangerous secret, I didn’t –“

“You didn’t what? Trust me?” Bitterness effuses her tone.

“No, Evrial, you know that’s not what it was –“

“What did you think, huh?” Voice raising, “What did you think? That I would find out and run off and sell the secret to some newspaper reporter or something?”

“No,” Amaranthe cuts in empathetically, talking louder in hopes that Evrial will start listening to her. “No, that wasn’t it at all; I was trying to protect _you_ , not the secret.”

Evrial issues a humorless laugh. “Oh, so that when you got killed over it I’d be able to just sit pretty and mourn you and not know what the fuck even happened? Think you had died for some noble cause when you were really just trying to cover up someone else’s shit.”

Amaranthe swallows back a snappy retort. Hoping some levity will return some peace to the conversation, she says, “Well, I haven’t died yet.”

“Not for lack of trying! Amaranthe, you spent the last week being tortured by some maniac!”

Losing her patience, Amaranthe shouts back, “What, so you wanted me to tell you so the same thing could happen to you! You wanted to know, so you could go months worrying that Sicarius would decide he doesn’t actually think you’re trustworthy and slash your throat some night so you can’t tell anyone his secret?”

“No! I wanted you to trust me instead of carrying everything around inside of you all the time! And I want to be able to trust you not to lie and hide important things from me!”

“This wasn’t about lying to you, you aren’t –“

“Really? Because every single time we got ready to risk our lives I remember you telling everyone it was a risk worth taking because it would be for the good of the Empire!”

“Oh, what, so you think someone Forge picked out with exactly the same qualifications as Sespian would be better for the empire?”

“That’s not our decision to make! Who are we, two low class girls who attended a few classes at the Enforcer Academy, to decide that we’d rather have an idealistic 19 year old on the throne than the rightful heir?”

“There is no rightful heir, Evrial!”

Evrial huffs, shaking her head. “Whatever. That doesn’t change the fact that in the entire fucking year that you’ve known this, you couldn’t tell me and let me decide whether or not I wanted to risk my life every other week for the son of an assassin.”

Amaranthe sets her head in her hands, digging her fingers into her scalp. Frustrated as she is with the whole situation right now, the fact of the matter is that she can’t deny that part of the reason she held off on telling Evrial was her fear that her friend would decide to leave if she knew the truth: that they had sacrificed their credibility as enforcers and law abiding citizens and were regularly risking their lives for the sake of someone whose claim to the throne was shaky at best.

Somehow she doubts confessing to this detail now is going to win her any points in the argument.

“I – I was going to tell you.”

“Of course you were, which is why you waited a year without so much as dropping a single hint.”

“No, I – Sicarius wanted to tell Sespian, once he’d earned a little bit of his trust.” Evrial snorts. Amaranthe ignores her derision and pushes forward, “I was going to tell you before we told Sespian.” Or shortly after, if Sicarius had actually managed to work up some initiative as far as the matter went. “I told Sicarius that I wanted to, and he agreed that it would be okay if you knew, so I at least wouldn’t have to worry about him wanting to silence you.” This conversation with Sicarius had also occurred after Forge had found out the secret, so there was also the fact that she wouldn’t have had to worry about anyone associated with the organization torturing the information out of Evrial.

Evrial shakes her head. “Amaranthe, I’m sure you had fantastic intentions. You always do.” She stands up and brushes the sand off of her pants. Amaranthe stands up as well.

“Look, Evvy,” she reaches out to put a hand on Evrial’s shoulder, but misses when Evrial pulls back and crosses her arms protectively across her chest. Looking down, Amaranthe tries to continue, “I’m sorry, but –“

“Amaranthe,” Evrial cuts her off, “we can continue this later, but right now I just really need some space so I can figure out what I want to do from here.”

Staring at her toes, Amaranthe says, “Okay.”

They walk up to the house in silence, and choose separate rooms once they arrive.

*****

“Amaranthe!” Evrial exclaims when she opens her door.

“At ease, Corporal Yara,” Amaranthe says, hoping her joking tone will keep Evrial from noticing the furtive glance she gives the hallway as she slips into her friend’s apartment and makes her way over to the creaky bed that takes up most of the space in the single room.

“Amaranthe,” Evrial repeats, following her over to bed, “Amaranthe, where have you been for the last week! I went by your apartment a few days ago to check up on you, but there were enforcers swarming your building and none of them could give me a clear idea of what was going on. Are you in some kind of trouble or something?”

Amaranthe huffs out a sigh. “Well, trouble is a relative term…”

“Amaranthe,” Evrial twists on the bed and puts her hands Amaranthe’s shoulders so she can look squarely into Amaranthe’s eyes, “tell me what’s going on. If it’s something that could get you in jail, I won’t tell anyone, but I can’t help you at all if you don’t explain what’s happened since you completely dropped off the map.”

Amaranthe grins. “So you want to help me with whatever possibly illegal hijinks I’ve gotten myself into?”

“What? Illegal? Amaranthe, just tell me what’s going on!”

Amaranthe nods, and launches into her story. How the Commander of the Armies called her up to the Barracks after work one day and gave her a mission to kill the infamous assassin Sicarius. Plowing through Evrial’s noise of surprise, she tells her about her suspicions regarding the Emperor’s tea and Hollowcrest’s possible manipulation of the young man, suspicions she had decided could wait until she’d finished her mission. She tells her how she got close but not close enough to that goal before Sicarius caught up to her from behind. How she was nearly killed by the man before they managed to come to a shaky agreement to work together temporarily so Amaranthe could try to figure out what was going on with the Emperor. How Hollowcrest had been surprisingly willing to share the details of and his motivation for slipping poison into the Emperor’s tea before she got hauled away to the dungeons. She tells her about the doctor who infected her with Hysintunga and how she’d thought she was going to die but had escaped anyway because of the letter she’d stolen from Hollowcrest’s desk, the letter that had contained threats to assassinate young Sespian, the letter Hollowcrest stole back after she’d gotten settled into her room in the dungeons. She tells her how’d she’d been too delirious to pass on the information to Sicarius, and how he’d found a shaman to magically heal her. Evrial tries to interrupt her at the mention of magic, but Amaranthe pushes on, explaining her plan to produce counterfeit money in hopes that the threat of rapid inflation can convince both whatever shady business entity is behind the assassination threats and Hollowcrest into ceasing their machinations and how Sicarius agreed to help her with her plan if she manages to get a team together to help them out.

Once her tale is finished, Evrial looks at her for a long second, mouth agape, before spluttering, “Wait. Wait. I don’t – How –“

“It’s a lot to take in,” Amaranthe agrees.

“Magic? And _Sicarius_? The assassin?”

“I won’t deny the magic part is a little bit… surprising. But at the same time it is the only reason I’m alive right now. And I have no idea what’s going on with Sicarius, but it seems like he’s concerned about the Emperor’s safety and I definitely need the help if I’m going to make a difference in this whole mess of a situation.” She looks significantly at Evrial.

Evrial seems to catch the underlying plea for her assistance. “Oh spiteful bloody ancestors, you want me to help you with you very, very illegal plan to produce counterfeit money. Not to mention, aiding and abetting a known _murderer_ –“

“If everything works out the way I want it to, he’ll be helping us, not the other way around. Also, we wouldn’t be using the money, we’d just need to make enough to be convincing. Once everyone stops threatening the emperor, we can destroy the stuff.”

 “Amaranthe…” Evrial clutches her head in her hands. “Wait, hold on, what do you mean, ‘us’? I haven’t agreed to anything yet,” she says, looking up at Amaranthe through the gap in her fingers.

Amaranthe pats her on the shoulder.  “No, but I’m figuring that you’ll realize that saving the Emperor’s life is worth missing a few days of work and participating in a couple of slightly illegal activities until everything passes over.”

Evrial closes her eyes and moans into her hands. Amaranthe hopes it’s a ‘dammit, you’re right’ sort of a moan, and waits patiently.

Evrial issues another despairing sound before looking over at Amaranthe, still cheerfully perched on the bed. “Do you think it would be suspicious if I tried to sell my apartment before coming to live in whatever hidey hole you’ve picked out?”

“That’s the spirit! And, while I appreciate your enthusiasm, hopefully you’ll be able to move back in after the Emperor’s birthday, given that that’s all the time we have before the date of threatened assassination.” She hops off the bed, wishing the sudden motion didn’t make her feel suddenly faint, still recovering from her disease and all. “Alright, come to Fourth and Wharf Street tomorrow morning, and you’ll get to meet the rest of the hypothetical team then.”

Evrial lets out a strangled laugh, “You’ve actually managed to convince people who you haven’t been friends with since the Enforcer Academy to go along with your crazy plan?”

“Yes. Well. Kind of. There’s a drunk ex-professor who Sicarius sort of knows who seemed more or less convinced. And a teenage wizard, maybe. And a male escort who agreed to a few weeks if Sicarius beats him in a duel tonight.”

Evrial somehow manages to look even more concerned that she did before. “Three men, an assassin, and you and I are going to produce thousands upon thousands of fake ranmya bills in the next two weeks.”

“It’s a little more like two and half. And come on, anyone can run a printing press once you get it working. It won’t be that hard.” Hopefully.

Evrial is shaking her head, not looking very convinced, “Dear ancestors, Amaranthe, I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Don’t be such a pessimist. Come on, I wouldn’t drag you into a few short weeks of crime and vigilantism if I didn’t think we had a chance to save the Emperor.”

“I doubt that was as reassuring as you thought it would be.”

Amaranthe clears her throat, “Well, in any case, I have a duel I need to attend. Enjoy your last night as a law abiding citizen!”

“I hate you,” Evrial tells her as she leaves.

*****

Putting aside the myriad of momentary doubts she has in the middle the team’s frighteningly frequent life or death experiences, there are only two times Amaranthe really regrets convincing Evrial to help her out.

The first occurs the day after she talks to Evrial when Sicarius expresses the sentiment that it would only be logical to kill all of the people she’s convinced to help them out once the next two weeks are over.

(“Absolutely not,” she tells him, hoping she sounds reasonably authoritative despite the dread pooling in her stomach, “I did not convince everyone to help us out so you could kill them when this is over. In fact, I specifically told Evrial not to sell her apartment so she can move back into it once this is all done. You will not be killing any of these nice people. At all. Ever.”)

The second happens after she and Sicarius manage to make the whole team look like a band of criminals behind the assassination attempt on the Emperor, sealing almost everyone’s fate as a fugitive from the law for the foreseeable future.

“How the fuck did you manage to make your rescue operation look like an assassination attempt?” Evrial asks accusingly after Amaranthe and Sicarius liberate her and the rest of the team from jail. It was only by the sheerest of luck that the jail the rest of the team had found themselves in had been located on the opposite side of the city from where Evrial and Amaranthe used to patrol, thus allowing Amaranthe to use her farmer ruse without any of the enforcers working at the jail wondering why Lacey the milkmaid had looked so much like an enforcer who had mysteriously stopped showing up for work two weeks ago.

“In my defense,” Amaranthe holds up a finger, “it was Sicarius who wielded the big scary ax in such a way that it looked like he wanted to cut off Sespian’s head in front of all of the soldiers.”

“Dear ancestors,” Evrial mutters.

Amaranthe swallows, “I’m sorry this life of crime thing wasn’t over in the two and half weeks I told you it would be. However, it does seem like Forge is a slightly bigger organization than we thought it was, so there’s the continued incentive of helping out the empire.”

Evrial sighs. “Yeah. Hence this whole Emperor’s Edge thing, huh.”

Amaranthe shrugs and nods. “Well. Yes.”

Evrial shakes her head, probing her cheek with her tongue. “I really hate you sometimes.”

“I’m sorry,” Amaranthe says sincerely.

“Well,” Evrial goes on, “At least I’ve gotten sucked into a life of crime with my dear friend, Amaranthe. Insane though she may be, her plans are just crazy enough that they seem like they do some good. Sometimes.”

“Aw, you flatter me.”

“Consider yourself flattered.” Evrial looks at Amaranthe for a second before landing a quick, impulsive kiss on Amaranthe’s lips.

“Goodnight Amaranthe.”

Trying not to blush and failing miserably, Amaranthe doesn’t quite return the salutation before Evrial’s left the corridor for her bed.

“Goodnight Evrial,” she says to the now empty hallway.

*****

“Is something going on between you two?” Malydonado asks Amaranthe when Evrial comes into the kitchen and doesn’t so much as look at Amaranthe as she positions herself by the stove as they wait for the rest of the team to finish gathering supplies.

Amaranthe sighs. “Oh, you know, the classic situation wherein my girlfriend is pissed at me because I didn’t tell her Sespian was an illegitimate heir.”

“Ahhh,” Malydonado intones, “I see. Lady girlfriend stick up her butt wasn’t too happy to discover that all our illegal activities are even less justifiable now that it turns out we were propping up a fake emperor.”

Amaranthe looks up to see Sicarius walk into the room before responding to Malydonado. “Firstly, please don’t call Evrial that. We don’t need to mock her for having a slightly less messy moral calculus than the rest of us. Secondly, Sespian has just as much of a claim to the throne as anyone Forge could pick out of the woodwork to replace him, so I really think that I was perfectly justified in protecting her from a secret that could have gotten her killed or tortured.”

“Look, you don’t have to reenact your relationship drama for me. I was just concerned that my two favorite women are fighting.”

“Maldynado,” Amaranthe snaps, “you already know neither of us is at all interested in having a three way with you, so you cut it out with the charm.”

“Amaranthe,” Maldynado says, and Amaranthe can’t tell if he’s actually hurt or just mock offended, “truly, I am insulted that you would imply that my attempts at polite conversation with a dear friend, who seems to be fighting with her girlfriend, were simply a cover for ulterior, self-serving motives.”

Admittedly, it’s been more than eight months since Maldynado last hinted at an interest in polyamorous bedroom activities, which indicates that Amaranthe really is just taking out her frustration on her teammate. “Sorry,” she apologizes, “I didn’t mean to insult the veracity of our friendship. My patience is just stretched a little thin right now.”

“No harm done,” Maldynado says amicably, “but you might want to make up with her. The next few weeks are already going to be strained enough the with weird father-son stuff between Sicarius and Sespian.”

 “You’re right,” Amaranthe sighs. “We’re going to need to get all of this messy, interpersonal stuff in line if we’re going to be able to make any difference once we get to the capital.” Much less introduce whatever new governmental paradigm Books is in the process of dreaming up.

“Well,” Maldynado says, watching Sespian come into the kitchen, and beeline to the corner farthest away from Sicarius, “Good luck with that.”

Amaranthe sighs, but successfully does not lay her head down on the table in despair. She doubts that would give her the appearance of a leader confident in the success of this team, an appearance that she needs to maintain, especially before they make it into the warzone Stumps may already have become.

*****

The lake is starting to get dark and Amaranthe, Sicarius, and Maldynado have yet to return from the dam.

Evrial paces. She was already ill at ease after getting a bit closer to the eviscerated bodies currently taking up residence in the dam than she ever wanted to be ever again, but between Amaranthe deciding that going on a monster hunt sounded like a good idea and the sighting of the shaman not fifteen minutes ago, Evrial rather thinks her nerves have had enough strain in the past few hours to last her a lifetime.

Closer to the lake’s beach, Books instructs Basilard on the proper way to monitor the hoses that will be providing Books and Akstyr with air as they descend to the bottom of the lake and try to take out the device poisoning the water.

Akstyr asks, “Didn’t Amaranthe say to wait for her before we go down? So we’d have enough people up here to help us if we need it or something?”

“That was before the shaman showed up,” Books replies, then looks at Evrial to back him up.

She clears her throat. “He’s right. Amaranthe just said that because she likes to be present for the important stuff. I’ll be able to watch out for any people or glowing-eyed animals who might wish us harm while Basilard monitors your hoses.” Not to mention the fact that there’s a good chance the other half of the team has gotten themselves into serious trouble by this point in time, but whatever hypothetical calamities might have befallen their comrades, the fact remains that they need to fix Stump’s water supply and their ragtag team seems to be the most likely to succeed in a timely manner at this junction. She goes back to pacing.

A branch snaps. Evrial points her rifle in the direction of the disturbance.

Maldynado’s voice sounds out from the forest, and Evrial lowers her rifle. “Akstyr? Cursed fog, where’s the slagging beach?”

Maldynado runs out of the forest. Sicarius follows, and Evrial swears the ground drops out beneath her feet when she sees Amaranthe in his arms, the few bandages crudely wrapped around her torso dripping with blood.

Evrial will later reflect that while there are a lot of things that she hates about Amaranthe, without question the thing she hates most is her friend’s callous willingness to throw her life away.

She rushes over to the spot where the men position Amaranthe on a blanket, sinks to the ground and clasps her friend’s hand in her own, frantically searching for some sign that Amaranthe will be alright. She’s breathing, Amaranthe’s breathing. But she’s losing too much blood. No, no, she’s breathing. Not dead yet because she’s breathing.

Distantly she hears Sicarius ordering Akstyr to heal Amaranthe. Evrial’s head snaps up. Of course! The teenage wizard had been studying healing magic the whole way up the mountains; he’ll be able to do something! They’ve been through too much for some mythical monster to be the thing that kills Amaranthe; she’s still breathing and Akstyr can heal her!

Akstyr’s mouth gapes open and he shakes his head.

What, he’s not even going to try?

Evrial thinks she might be slightly hysterical. She can’t tell if she’s crying or not, she’s too busy trying to process everyone’s attempts to convince Akstyr he has to do something and counting Amaranthe’s breaths.

Akstyr, you have to try, Akstyr, get over here and heal her, Akstyr, do something, something.

“Akstyr!” Evrial shouts, not caring about the way her voice cracks, “Get the fuck over here and start doing something before she dies!”

The fact that Sicarius is sending an ice cold glare at the young man might be what actually convinces to the boy, but it doesn’t matter because he comes over on shaky legs and rests his hands over Amaranthe’s abdomen and closes his eyes.

Evrial relaxes a smidgeon, but retains her white knuckled grasp on Amaranthe’s hand and keeps her eyes fixed on the rise and fall of her chest. Still breathing, she’s still breathing.

She barely registers when Sicarius goes off in search of the shaman, nor is she paying much attention when Books goes under the lake by himself and is subsequently kidnapped.

When Amaranthe opens her eyes the next morning, Evrial is denied any rising swell of relief, already knowing that Akstyr detected an infection he was unable to cure, one that will surely kill her.

Of course, in the span of a day Amaranthe somehow manages to rescue Books, get the shaman to heal her, and make it back in time to see the rest of the team miraculously delivered from their untimely doom at the hands of the mechanical constructs guarding the cave.

The whole experience leaves Evrial both shaken and a little bit more optimistic than usual. Once they’ve returned to Stumps, Evrial even tries to thank Sicarius for the vital role he played in saving Amaranthe’s life. He responds with nothing more than an impassive gaze, leaving Evrial wondering why she bothered.

*****

Evrial plans to not talk to Amaranthe during their trip to Port Dremel.

It might be a little bit petulant and childish, but at the same time Evrial feels, quite frankly, a little betrayed. She’s not planning on leaving the team of course; she’s reluctantly admitted to herself that Amaranthe was probably correct to point out that Forge and any heir they pick out will likely not be an ideal choice for the majority of the empire’s populace.

But at the same time, Evrial cannot so easily forgive the fact that in the entire year of knowing such an enormous and dangerous secret, Amaranthe couldn’t see fit to even drop a hint that she might know something that could change the rules of the risky, not to mention very illegal, game they had been playing.

(It also definitely doesn’t help that for the entirety of the week that Amaranthe had been in Forge’s clutches, Evrial’s weak attempts at optimism had centered on two things. The first, which she had obsessed over at that time, was the reality that most people outside of the group assumed that Sicarius, as the most notorious member, was the leader of the group; thus, with Amaranthe’s seemingly infinite luck, Evrial could try to believe that this would somehow translate into Forge not thinking that her friend was someone important enough to kill. The second, currently serving as kindling for Evrial’s anger, was her assumption that Amaranthe had not known anything worth a week of torture.)

In any case, Evrial has decided that the best course of action will be to take the few days they spend walking to Port Dremel to get some distance, even if it’s a little bit of a forced distance, and use the space to cool their heads so that they might be able to use the trip upriver to sort out their differences and get to the point where, at their very least, they’ll be able to more or less smoothly enact whatever crazy plans Amaranthe decides to set in motion once they reach Stumps.

Amaranthe, of course, is apparently not aware of Evrial’s current plans for a little bit of forced distance.

“So, Evrial,” Amaranthe says casually, sitting down next to Evrial with her stew, as if they were not in the middle of a fight right now. Evrial tries to be positive and understanding; she has not explicitly told Amaranthe that she’s not planning on talking to her for the next few days, just that she needs some space, and Amaranthe has at least had the decency to not sit so close that any parts of their bodies need to be in contact with each other. Furthermore, Evrial is willing to amend her decision to not talk to Amaranthe if they need to discuss something tactical.

A quick glance at the team (Maldynado and Books are bickering loudly, Akstyr and Basilard are contributing inflammatory remarks, Sespian is watching the antics with limited interest, and Sicarius is standing watch) also provides some reassurance that, should something cause Evrial’s temper to flare up, the men won’t be eavesdropping.

Focusing back on Amaranthe, Evrial nods to indicate that she’s paying attention, but deliberately does not make eye contact.

Amaranthe’s mouth twitches into a grimace for a second, but she quickly switches it out for her everything-will-be-fine-and-no-one’s-going-to-die-or-be-seriously-maimed smile.

“Okay, well, obviously the team’s going to need to be working together seamlessly once we get to the capital,” Amaranthe begins, and Evrial thinks that it does indeed sound like a discussion of tactics and that she just might be able to peacefully participate in this conversation before continuing her strategy of slightly forced distance for healing purposes. “Thus, it would be both very much appreciated and useful to our goals as a team if you could help me smooth out some of the wrinkles in Sicarius and Sespian’s father-son dynamic.”

Wondering how on earth Amaranthe could possibly think that bringing up the secret parental link at the root of their anger with each other could was a good idea, Evrial can’t quite hold back the derisive laugh. “ _Wrinkles_?”

“Well, I guess I can concede that they are slightly large wrinkles,” Amaranthe says, clearly trying to inject some levity into the situation, her apparent lightheartedness belied by a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure the team still isn’t watching.

Keeping voice to whisper as best as she can, Evrial snaps, “Firstly, they’re not so much wrinkles as giant gaping holes. Secondly, they are giant gaping holes I have no interest in helping you patch over. So, have my wishes of good luck in your efforts to convince Sespian he should lovingly accept the murderer he has for a father, but also know that I have absolutely no interest in helping you out on that front and in fact think it would be wiser to simply plan to not force the two to work together as you formulate your schemes.”

“But Evrial, don’t you think –“

“Amaranthe,” Evrial cuts her off mid-protest, before Amaranthe can catch enough steam to really get going. “I told you last night I needed some space, by which I meant I have no interest in talking to you until after we’ve boarded our steamboat at Port Dremel. So unless you have some time sensitive tactical details you wish to share with me, leave me in peace.”

Amaranthe shuts her mouth and watches sadly as Evrial takes a vicious bite of her stew.

“Okay,” she says quietly before getting up and walking over to sit next to Sespian, leaving Evrial with the space she’d requested.

*****

Evrial crouches down in one of the hollows of they’ve carved out so as to not be seen if a solider decides to step out onto one of the platforms on either side of the coal car and tries to ignore the nerves buzzing in her stomach. If Amaranthe’s plan is successful today, it might mean that they can finally say goodbye to the life of crime and go on to live long, happy, relatively quiet, law abiding lives. Of course, on the flip side, everything might fall through and get the entire team killed. Evrial’s just trying to focus on the goal of keeping the emperor safe and the slightly less distant than before promise of pardons.

Amaranthe crouches down in the coal next to Evrial. “Sicarius says Sespian’s in the fourth car back, 23 soldiers and guards sharing the car with him, plus the female escort who may or may not be a practitioner. Only about two more hours until we make it to the pass.”

“Joy,” Evrial says dourly, trying not to think about the fact that Sicarius randomly decided to go on a killing spree right before they left for Forkingrust. While she can at least take some solace in the fact that the people killed were all hypothetically associated with Forge, the whole episode has left her wondering if Amaranthe really has as much control over the man as she thinks she does and if it’s truly wise to continue using him as a member of the team.

“Hey,” Amaranthe says softly, landing a quick kiss on the corner of Evrial’s mouth, “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried that something will go horribly wrong,” Evrial snorts at this, “but we’ve been training for this for months now and everyone knows how high the stakes are for this one, so I’m reasonably certain we’ll be fine. Besides, it’s just a couple dozen guards and a possible practitioner; much better odds than the underwater fortress we infiltrated during the summer.”

Evrial’s long since learned that it’s pointless to argue with Amaranthe’s boundless optimism. “I really hope you’re right,” she says instead, lacing her fingers with Amaranthe’s, “because I am definitely looking forward to not walking around with a couple thousand ranmya bounty on my head.”

“Exactly! Focus on the goal at hand! And you’re definitely right, especially considering you said you aren’t going to marry me until after we’ve gotten our pardons.” Evrial can’t quite see the cocky, swaggering smile; it’s too dark now. But she is quite certain one is currently residing on Amaranthe’s face.

“Okay, first of all, that conversation happened during the brothel birthday party Maldynado threw for you, which means I was definitely drunk. Secondly, you make it sound like you’re expecting us to skip down and get our marriage certificate as soon as the ink is dry on our pardons, which was definitely not implied in whatever I said regardless of my sobriety level. Thirdly, –“

“Shhhh,” Amaranthe hushes, and Evrial stops talking, chagrinned to realize her voice had gotten rather loud. “I was just teasing,” Amaranthe says, landing another kiss, this time on Evrial’s cheek, “but I am kind of hoping we’ll be able to make it up to the pass, which will require not being overheard by soldiers, so I’ll stop.”

Of course, because they have simultaneously the best and worst luck of any team of vigilante’s known to the world, a nosey guard chooses that moment to step out on to the platform and they have to start the mission two hours before they make it to the pass.

Evrial will not deny she’s kind of happy the less than ideal turn of events means she gets stuck driving the train while the rest of the team infiltrates the Emperor’s car.

*****

The steamboat ride is starting to make Amaranthe feel a little bit stretched beyond her means.

The trip had gotten off to a less than auspicious beginning, by Amaranthe’s judgment, when her brilliant plan to have Sicarius and Sespian room together almost instantly fell through when Sespian traded roommates with Basilard.

It had quickly become clear that her own roommate situation with Evrial would be strained best, given that both were still nursing frustration over their fight on Marblecrest Island. While Evrial had seen fit to talk about more than ‘time sensitive tactical matters,’ that had pretty much only expanded their communication to a brief conversation in which Evrial indicated that they needed to have a conversation to sort out their differences and Amaranthe agreed before they lapsed into sharing only slightly grudging salutations when one of them left or entered the room.

With all the interpersonal drama, Amaranthe had actually been a little bit excited to find out there were Forge people skulking about on the ship, hoping it would get everyone’s adrenaline going and help smooth over everyone’s differences.

Of course, that had been before Evrial and Maldynado somehow fell off the boat after being discovered by and having to fight some of the enforcers aboard the ship. And then, the already less than ideal situation had only gotten worse when they found out that Forge or some other interested party had stored away weapons containing, according to Sicarius, an extremely dangerous poison that could potentially kill every human and animal living in Stumps. Of course, the plan to sneak in, bury the weapons in cement and drop the encased weapons to the bottom of the river had gone less then smoothly when they had to wait a few hours for the cement to at least partially dry while trying to hold back the enforcers who had discovered them. The bad situation had only gotten worse when marines had shown up as backup for the enforcers, forty or so of whom Sicarius was now fighting off in some other part of the boat.

Staring at the cement-encased weapons of apparent alien origin and trying to decide if there were any last minute alternatives to come up with, Amaranthe ruefully contemplates the fact that the worst she’d been expecting of their little trip up the river was failing to fix up the variety of interpersonal conflicts assailing her team.

Now, with Evrial and Maldynado missing, Sicarius fighting off forty soldiers and guards elsewhere, and nothing but some cement slathered around the weapons containing a dangerous enough poison to make Sicarius blink, Amaranthe wonders how she’d had such high expectations.

Of course, her best case scenario plans had involved the team disembarking the boat with nothing more exciting behind them except perhaps a quick skirmish with some hypothetical Forge people, a skirmish which would have no greater lasting effect than leaving everyone a little bit happier to be on the team and ready to work together to spearhead a revolution of sorts and defeat Ravido’s troops.

Maybe’s she really has gotten a bit too optimistic for her own good.

“Drop it,” she orders the men. As they simultaneously remove the planks and prepare to dive after the cutout bottom of the boat laden with poisonous weapons, all Amaranthe can do is hope that they can somehow manage to meet up with all the missing members after successfully disposing of the weapons, preferably without contaminating half of the river in the process.

*****

Amaranthe usually is not prone to count the momentary doubts she has in the middle of the team’s all too frequent life or death experiences as serious regrets about any of the decisions she has made.

So while she does not consider any part of the day they spent trapped in the railroad tunnel as a time she wished she’d decided not to ask her friend to join the team, she has to admit that the long minutes preceding her ordered explosion of the train’s boiler gave her a little more time than usual to worry that she truly had made an awful mistake when she asked Evrial to help her make counterfeit money all of those months ago.

*****

“Good to see you two are okay,” Amaranthe tells Maldynado, offering him a smile and giving a friendly wave towards Evrial in the wheelhouse as he helps her climb aboard the boat they seem to have procured and conveniently positioned downstream of the steamboat. “Did you just get here or…”

“We got here a little while ago, but Evrial said there was no way we were going to be able to get back on the steamboat, not with all the marines swarming it.” They walk over to wheelhouse while Maldynado gives her the details, and Evrial offers a slightly strained smile when they enter. “She also figured you’d probably need a getaway vehicle once you’d worked your way out of whatever trouble you’d gotten yourself into.”

“That makes sense. Evrial’s cautionary tactics tend to be good for tying up all the loose ends I forget about,” Amaranthe jokes.

“I think by cautionary tactics she means plans developed by people who don’t have a death wish,” Evrial tells Maldynado, but Amaranthe thinks there’s a little twinkle in her eye.

“Is everyone else accounted for?” Amaranthe asks Maldynado.

Maldynado sticks his head out of the cabin. “Akstyr, Books, Basilard, and Sespian are.”

Slightly worried, given that the last time she had seen him he’d been cornered by several dozen marines, she asks, “No Sicarius?” She doesn’t think she’ll be able to pull off everything she wants to in the capital if she loses her best man, not to mention the fact that she’d be rather upset if her attempts to match make Sespian and Sicarius’s father-son relationship fell through. Besides, she likes to think she can say he’s a friend as well, considering all the life or death situations she’s dragged him and the rest of the team into in the past year.

She needn’t have worried, for from the corner of the wheelhouse Sicarius announces, bland per his usual, “He is accounted for.”

Though Amaranthe wonders, as she always does in situations like these, how the man managed to get into the room with its single door without any of them noticing, she finally seems to have managed to not twitch at his unexpected appearances.

Evrial, who has not quite gotten to that point, jumps noticeably. Amaranthe offers her a cheeky grin, to which Evrial rolls her eyes.

The rest of the team starts to file into the wheel house, and it occurs to Amaranthe that with the deck now vacated, and, coming off of the relief that everyone’s alive, both of them a little less ready to jump at the other’s throat, now might be a good time to have the conversation they need to have to smooth over the gap left by their fight.

“Maldynado,” Amaranthe asks, “do you think you could take over the wheel for a little bit?”

As Evrial relinquishes her position to Maldynado, sending Amaranthe a questioning look, Akstyr asks, “We’re going to have _Maldynado_ to steer? What, do we want to crash?”

Amaranthe gestures for Evrial to follow her out to the deck while Maldynado protests, “Really, ignoring the fact that never once has it been my fault that we’ve crashed, that joke has gotten really old and I don’t appreciate –“

 “So, you managed to survive whatever trouble you found during my temporary leave of absence?” Evrial asks as they reach the stern of the boat and lean against the wall, facing the wheelhouse so Amaranthe can keep an eye on the rest of the team.

“We did, somehow,” Amaranthe says. “I’ll regale you with all the exciting details during what will hopefully be a less eventful walk to the capital. Right now, though –“

“You figured it might be a good time to have that conversation where we get over our fight so as to be prepared for the life risking activities sure to come?” Evrial offers Amaranthe a wry smile in the dimming light.

“Something like that.” Amaranthe offers a smile of her own.

“Okay. I do have a quick question before we do that. Did something completely miraculous happen during my temporary leave of absence?” Evrial says, nodding towards the wheelhouse, eyeing Sespian and Sicarius.

Amaranthe looks over in time to see Sespain examining Sicarius speculatively but without the usual hostility. Perhaps sensing Amaranthe and Evrial watching from their position at the stern of the boat, Sespian glances at them through the window of the wheelhouse. Amaranthe offers a small smile. He gives a sheepish shrug before redirecting his gaze at the floor. Amaranthe doesn’t think she’d call it miraculous progress, but it’s enough that she hopefully won’t have to deal with as much infighting once they make it to the capital.

Turning back to Evrial and thinking of Sicarius’s standoff with the enforcers and marines, buying the rest of the team the time they needed to sink the weapons, she says, “Sicarius had one of his rare heroic moments.”

Evrial nods thoughtfully. “I guess he does do that sometimes.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a brief pause.

“Look –” Evrial starts, as Amaranthe simultaneously opens her mouth and says “I’m sorry –“

They look at each other.

“Well, yours sounded like an apology, so maybe you should go first,” Evrial suggests.

Amaranthe looks down and rubs the floor of the boat with her toe. “Okay.” She takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you Sicarius is Sespian’s father. You were right to say that it was unfair to you to assume you’d want to stick around and risk your life for my idealism, and if I’m being completely honest… I still stand by the fact that part of it was trying to protect you, and I’m glad you didn’t have to go through what I went through for it. But I also didn’t tell you because I was afraid you’d leave the group if you knew the truth.”

She leaves the ‘that you’d leave me’ unspoken.

Evrial sighs but doesn’t immediately respond. Amaranthe looks up to see her shaking her head slightly.

Crossing her arms, and looking down again, Amaranthe adds, “I guess, if you want to leave, now that you know the truth–“

“Amaranthe,” Evrial interrupts, “You’re an idiot.”

Amaranthe stares at Evrial. “While I admit I have a long track record of doing stupid things, that wasn’t quite the response I was expecting.”

“Dear ancestors. Look, I appreciate that you recognize that I am indeed a little bit upset that I didn’t know what we were fighting for this whole time, but we’ve definitely gotten to the point where leaving isn’t an option for me. And I guess maybe I would have considered quitting the team had you told me when you found out, but I’m pretty willing to bet I would have ultimately decided to stick around.”

“Really?” Amaranthe asks. “I mean, I didn’t realize... I thought you hated all the vigilantism and life of crime stuff though.”

 “Oh, believe me, I do,” Evrial says with a rueful smile, “but I’m also your friend, Amaranthe, and I would have worried about you back then if I left you high and dry with a terrifying assassin and a bunch of other men who can barely tie their own shoes. And now, I’m still your friend and I’ve had enough run ins and near death experiences with Forge that I know they’re bad news for the country.”

“Oh,” Amaranthe says, chagrined for how badly she’d misinterpreted her girlfriend’s motivations. At the same time, there is a rush of relief at Evrial’s proclamation of loyalty to the group filling all the parts of her previously occupied by the long lived worry that her friend might leave her.

“Okay, you’ve done your apology thing, we’ve established you’re a bigger idiot than previously believed, can I say my part now?”

Amaranthe smiles, still a little bit giddy from her relief, “Go ahead.”

“Alright. Well, I came into this conversation thinking that your sole motivation was to protect me from the risks associated with carrying big, dangerous secrets around. And I am somewhat willing to concede that it was a more or less valid decision to make, especially given the fact that, in your shoes, I might have done exactly the same thing.

“That being said, from this point forward, I would very much appreciate it if you could either start sharing with me all the scary, dangerous secrets you find out, or, at bare minimum, if you could at least tell me that you have  a scary, dangerous secret  so I know I should be worried.” Evrial looks expectantly at Amaranthe.

“Okay,” Amaranthe says with a smile. “I’ll promise to do the second one.”

Evrial exhales through her nose and shakes her head. “Well, I guess that’s the best I can ask for. So, any other secrets you may or may not currently be carrying around?”

Amaranthe swallows. “Uhm. Well, I know all the names of the principle Forge leaders. But I’m not planning on telling anyone unless we need to use the information because I’m afraid Sicarius will try to run off and kill them if he finds out.”

“Okay,” Evrial sighs, but also nods, “That’s fair. But on the way up to Stumps you are going to tell me how you even found that out in the first place. Anything else?”

“Uhm, there maybe a couple of other little tidbits I’ve figured out about Sicarius. But none of them are as big as the parental link one. Can I ask him if he’s okay with me sharing before I sort them all out and tell them to you?” Amaranthe attempts a convincing smile.

Evrial heaves a bigger sigh. “Alright.”

Amaranthe reaches a hand out to twine her fingers with Evrial’s. Evrial doesn’t pull her hand away, instead accepting the gesture and giving Amaranthe’s hand a brief squeeze.

“Are we good now?” Amaranthe asks.

“Yeah. I guess we are for now. I’m tired of fighting at least.”

“Me too,” Amaranthe says with a small smile.

They stand in companionable silence for a minute, each retaining their grasp on the other’s hand.

“Alright,” says Amaranthe. “Quick kiss before we go back to wheelhouse and find a good spot on the bank to get rid of the boat and start our slightly long walk for Stumps?”

“What?” Evrial starts, “Oh, right, you said we’re walking to the capital. Wait? Why are we walking to the capital when I took the time and effort to procure this very nice boat for us?”

“Because as soon as the marines get the situation with the steamboat with a hole in the bottom of it figured out they’re probably going to give chase.” Amaranthe says cheerily.

“Oh, I guess that’s true. Wait, why did you cut a hole in the bottom of the steamboat?”

“I’ll explain on the walk. So, quick kiss or no?”

“Dear ancestors. It’s a miracle I haven’t lost my sanity yet,” Evrial says, before complying to Amaranthe’s request with a peck on the lips.

“Love you too,” Amaranthe says, “and I look forward to the imminent life risking and near death experiences.”

“Don’t think that just because I love you doesn’t me I don’t hate you,” Evrial grumbles as Amaranthe tugs her forward.

They walk hand in hand to the wheelhouse.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by melodratragic. <3
> 
> Written for Femslash February.


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